The Dead Christine Club
by HeartRose
Summary: Ever get tired of the whining diva? Ever want to silence the "angel"? Multiple chapters of doing just that.
1. Chapter 1

Christine could sing very well. But, her singing abilities were often eclipsed by her whining. The staff at the Paris Opera House covered their ears whenever they saw the Diva walking by, toting her fool of a Viscomte behind her.

"But, Raoul, he stalks me and kidnaps me! You have to save me."

Whine, whine, whine. All day long. You can't blame me for what I did. She had to stop, someone had to make her stop! So I followed her, protecting her is what I told the curious managers. Keeping an eye on her.

How I fooled them. Everyday I watched it steadily worsened. Raoul this, Erik that, blah blah blah, whine, whine, whine.

Day after day I waited for my chance to silence the soprano forever. I listened on the roof the night she confessed her love to Raoul. Turned my head at the disgusting kiss they shared, good lord, was he trying to SWALLOW her?

I saw my chance as Raoul left the roof first, Christine wailing to the Heavens about a lost ring. I wedding ring from what I understood. Erik's ring. Then why was she kissing Raoul if she wore Erik's ring? Hmm, little whore.

I hear Raoul wept when they found her body, crushed on the pavement below the next morning. I smiled inside when they told me of her death, crocodile tears making their way down my cheeks. Finally the opera house was rid of her!

Of course, I was never caught. Who would suspect that Meg Giry would kill her childhood friend? I hear the managers are looking for a new diva. Hopefully this one will learn to keep her mouth shut. I'm not above pushing another girl off the roof.


	2. Chapter 2

Raoul couldn't believe his eyes. Here he was trying to save Christine from the evil Phantom and what does she do? Makes out with Erik of course while he, Raoul, is in the torture chamber! Wonderful. Sitting here boiling to death listening to the woman who claimed to love him play tonsil hockey with another man! How did he manage to get into messes like this? Raoul considered himself to be a decent man. He didn't overly drink or beat on women. He didn't whore around or cheat on Christine. In fact the ring he gave her took three weeks to make and half his fortune to pay for it. So what did she do with it? Wore it around her neck of course. Erik's ring and Erik himself were more important to her.

And honestly, what did that deformed git ever do for her? Kidnap her. Force her to stay with him. Fawn over her like a love sick puppy. He was sure Christine loved that, little pampered princess getting all the attention she could ever want. In fact, Raoul began to like Erik more and more. The idea of just leaving Christine and taking the Phantom with him sounded very appealing at the moment. Course the sewering heat may have something to do with his decision. No, he couldn't do that. Despite everything, Raoul believed her to be worth it. He had to believe that for the sake of his sanity.

Suddenly the room seemed cooler and a light breeze flowed over his skin. He must be dying. At the face of the demon before him Raoul was sure he had been sent to Hell.

"Can you walk, boy?"

Raoul nodded shakily climbing to his feet. Christine did not look at him and somehow that hurt more than the thought of her kissing another man. In fact when Erik told him to take her Christine fought the whole way to the boat crying, "Don't leave me!"

Raoul had enough of this nonsense. Once out of sight from Erik and safely away from his hearing Raoul slapped her. Christine stared up at him with tears in her eyes, not understanding how he could do this to her. The sight of a plain gold ring on her marriage finger pushed Raoul over the edge.

"Where is the ring I bought you?"

Christine did not say a word, merely held her face which only served to make Raoul angrier. Grabbing her by the throat he shook her like a rag doll. She didn't love him; she loved the freak. Then why didn't that deformed thing keep her?!

"Where is it?! You stupid whore! You want your Angel of Music so badly? Swim to him!"

Laughing insanely Raoul threw her over the edge of the boat. A small part of his brain felt bad for this as Christine couldn't swim. However, she did float rather nicely which would not do at all. Picking up an oar Raoul bashed her over the head with it till the water around her ran red with blood. Slowly Christine sank down to the depths of the lake. Raoul stared for a moment at the spot where she disappeared before continuing to row towards home.

Her death was a mystery never fully explained. Years later a man named Gaston Leroux would use a skeleton found in the cellars to prove Erik's story was true. How would he know what he found was a dead soprano?

Raoul went to the North Pole after confessing to Erik what had happened with Christine. To his surprise Erik sighed and said, "Finally." So an unusual friendship was born out of true hatred for a golden haired brat who at one time held both mens' hearts in her child's fingers.

Rest in Peace Christine.


	3. Chapter 3

Christine Daae was the closest thing Carlotta ever had as a rival in all her years as the leading soprano at the Opera Gardner. And Carlotta hated her. Christine and her simpering, big, green blue eyes. Her long blonde hair that made her look like a fallen angel. Men swarmed her, trying to heal her, save her, rescue her. It made Carlotta sick to see such displays. How was she the only one to see Christine's act for what it truly was? An act! Just a damsel in distress, needing a man to save her at every turn. Carlotta's blood boiled every time the Opera Ghost sent another note praising Christine and denouncing her own singing and trill and uninspired. But Carlotta's last straw came the night her voice croaked and the crowds and Opera Ghost laughed at her, screaming that she sang to "bring down the chandelier!"

Carlotta was done playing nice. She was done holding in her feelings. Christine had to pay. Carlotta made her plans carefully, knowing Christine wouldn't just come to her home if she asked. So Carlotta stole one of the Opera Ghost notes from the managers. Copying the handwriting didn't take much time as it seemed the writing was done by a child. But no matter, Carlotta had her note with careful instructions for Christine to meet the Opera Ghost in the third cellar that afternoon to discuss certain things. The last line was Carlotta's favorite as it read, "should you choose not to comply I shall have to find something else to drop upon the heads of the opera patrons."

The stage set, Carlotta waited in the shadows, a length of rope in her hands that she feverishly worked in a noose, waiting for the footsteps of the little angel on the stone. A few minutes passed and Carlotta begun to worry that Christine did not believe the note. Carlotta had only begun considering exactly which statue to drop on which section of the opera (she decided on the rows where the orphans often sat when the more kind hearted patrons brought them to the opera) when the oh so delicate footfalls could be heard on the stone steps close to where Carlotta hid.

"Erik? My love, are you here? My love, why are you so angry with me?"

Christine came into view, her hair and eyes thrown into shadows behind her lamp light. She walked forward, arm raised searching the far shadows when Carlotta pounced, slipping the rope around her thin neck and tightening it. Christine dropped the lamp, her fingers clawing at the rope, depersate for air, to cry for help, anything but to die done here alone. Carlotta knocked her down, dragging her back across the room and up the steps, Christine's head bouncing on the steps in a sickening fashion which made Carlotta giggle like a school girl. Carlotta pulled the thin child to her feet and looked into those eyes for the last time, the blood from an unseen head gash turning her hair a rather garish pink. Smiling at her as though she were only tucking her in for the night Carlotta tied the end of the rope around an iron candle arm high on the wall that stuck out a good foot and still smiling pushed Christine from the stair. The sight of her rival dying in such a painful way caused bursts of pleasure to explode from Carlotta's nether regions and she moaned joyfully watching Christine choke out her last breaths, her legs kicking uselessly as though trying to run away. Only after she was dead did Carlotta straighten up, reaching in her hand bag she pulled out a card hung on a rope necklace. She placed the card over Christine's head and stepped back to admire the effect before laughing quietly and walking away, taking the light with her.

Later that night Erik searched through dressing rooms and the lair looking for Christine, stumbled upon her by chance on the third floor landing. His scream were filled with pure sorrow that turned to rage when he read the card around her neck.

"How does my voice sound now, O.G?"

Rest in peace, Christine.


End file.
